Mother gave the children an apple each.  In little Marion’s there was a worm hole that obviously had a tenant.  “You take this one, Tommy,” she said; “I’se a vegetarian.”

VENTILATION

American people have a very high appreciation of the humor of Englishmen, and have been specially tickled by a story Colonel Cody used to tell.  He said that some years ago an Englishman who had never been in the West before was his guest.  They were riding through a Rocky-Mountain canon one day, when suddenly a tremendous gust of wind came swooping down upon them and actually carried the Englishman clean off the wagon-seat.  After he had been picked up, he combed the sand and gravel out of his whiskers and said: 

“I say!  I think you overdo ventilation in this country!”

The street-car conductor examined the transfer thoughtfully and said meekly, “This here transfer expired an hour ago, lady.”  The lady, digging into her purse after a coin, replied, “No wonder, with not a single ventilator open in the whole car!”

VOICE

Speech was given to man to disguise his thoughts.—­Talleyrand.

VOTING

PAT—­“Sure, I voted th’ Raypublican ticket!”

MIKE—­“Would ye trust such a party as thot?”

PAT—­“They didn’t ask me to—­they paid me cash.”

In St. Louis there is one ward that is full of breweries.  In a recent election the local option question was up.  After the election the clerks were counting the votes.  One was calling off and another taking down the option votes.  The first clerk, running rapidly through the ballots, said:  “Wet, wet, wet, wet.”  Suddenly he stopped.  “Mein Gott!” he cried.  “Dry!” Then he went on:  “Wet, wet, wet, wet.”  Presently he stopped again and mopped his brow.  “Himmel!” he said.  “The son-of-a-gun repeated.”

DORA-"How did you vote?”

FLORA-"In my brown suit and squirrel toque.”

“I do hope that when I am able to vote,” said the pretty young wife, “I will be as influential in politics as my husband.”

“How is that?” asked her friend.

“Why, he has voted in two Presidential elections, and both times his choice was elected.”

WAGES

  The hours you spend with me, dear “Mon,”
    Are very few, it seems to me;
  I count you over, every dime apart,
    MY SALARY.  My salary!

  Ten cents a dime, ten dimes a “plunk.” 
    To earn them is an awful grind;
  I count each dime unto the end, and there—­
    A “dun” I find.

  Oh toil, that is so poorly paid! 
    Oh salary, spent before we greet! 
  I kiss each dime, and try to find a way
    To make ends meet—­
    Ye gods!  To make ends meet!